Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?
by Pir8grl
Summary: Two strangers meet at a masked ball.


**Central City, New Year's Eve 2015**

The New Year's Eve Masque at the CC Ritz seemed as good a way as any to pass the time. The crowd was posh enough that a bit of constructive thievery wouldn't cause any actual hardship, and drunk enough not to notice. Not when the thief was such a master of his craft. It was the perfect opportunity to line his pockets, without breaking any promises. The midnight blue and silver domino mask would serve to confound any security footage…not that there'd be any visible evidence to record. He was far too good for that.

He'd collected more than enough for cover living expenses for the foreseeable future, and was considering calling it a night, when he saw her. She was tiny and blonde, wearing a sapphire blue dress that showed off a very nicely toned body. Some cretin who'd obviously had far too much to drink had hold of her arm. She was shaking, and trying to pull loose, without drawing undue attention.

The thief's eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment. If there was one thing he simply could not abide, it was handsy bastards. No meant no, after all. He plastered on a cool grin, and sauntered over.

"Darling! I've been looking for you," he drawled, while shooting the cretin in question his best 'evil older brother' glare.

He smoothly removed the woman's hand from the other man's grasp, leading her away. He felt the tremors running through her hand. Not quite fear, he thought. Or at least, not all fear. A mixture of something else, something close to rage, maybe. Whatever. Not his business. Not really.

About the same time he judged they'd moved a suitable distance away from Sir Hands-alot, the woman seemed to come to herself, drawing in a startled breath. He released her hand instantly.

She glanced down, shyly, although she didn't really seem the shy type - not in that dress - before glancing back up to meet his eyes. Her mask was trimmed with fine, sapphire blue feathers that danced with her movements. The color brought out her eyes.

"I, um…thanks for the assist," she mumbled.

"My pleasure," he replied, and meant it. And it really wasn't his business, but… "Are you all right?"

"I haven't been drinking, if that's what you mean. I…don't do so well with crowds right now. My mom and my sister thought it would be good for me to get out, but…I'm not sure it was such a good idea."

He wished the mask wasn't obscuring her face, and not just because she was obviously quite beautiful. There was something in her eyes, something far too old for her face. There was something in the way she held herself that reminded him of a jungle cat stalking its prey, grace belying powerful muscles and ferocious strength.

"You weren't afraid of that creep," he guessed shrewdly. "You were afraid of you. That if you let yourself go, you might hurt him."

She nodded, mouth pressed into a firm line.

"You ex-military?"

"Something like that."

Great. Probably PTSD. Again, not his problem. Except…

"Do you want to get some air?" he suggested quietly. "No funny stuff, I promise."

That earned him a smile, and an enticing, low chuckle.

"I don't think I'm very good company right now. And I think I need more 'air' than that balcony can provide. I need…someplace without cities, and people. Someplace where I can breath. Someplace with mountains, maybe."

Ah. He needed both cities, and people. How else was a thief to make a dishonest living, after all? Still, the thought of this lovely stranger going somewhere far away brought about an unexpected pang.

He was distracted momentarily by the band leader beginning the countdown to midnight. It was New Year's Eve, and there was a beautiful, intriguing, and possibly quite dangerous woman by his side. Even if he never saw her again, surely he could -

She was gone, melted into the crowd as if she'd never been there at all.

He swallowed his disappointment as a tipsy woman in red staggered into him. She never noticed that her diamond bracelet 'just happened to fall off.' He scanned the room once more, with a twinge of regret, as he made his artfully casual departure.

The thought crossed his mind that he probably had enough in his pockets to travel, if he wanted. Maybe see some mountains for himself. He shrugged it away. Central City was his home, after all. He couldn't imagine leaving it. Not for anything.


End file.
